


Take Your Walls and Start 'Em Breaking

by messedupstargazer



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: All The Tropes I Love So I Wrote Them, And Goddamit He Gets One, Charity and Phineas Love Their Children, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fever, Fever Dreams, Forehead Kisses, Found Family, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hugs, Hurt Phillip Carlyle, I'm Even Worse At Summaries, I'm Sorry, Insecure Phillip Carlyle, Minimal Accuracy for Maximum Hurt, Phillip Carlyle Needs a Hug, Protective P. T. Barnum, Sickfic, Small Hugh Jackman Easter Egg, So Much Found Family Tropes, Talking About The Fire, They Love Their Circus Son, This Is 10K of Self-Indulgence I Hope Y'All Know That, Worried Charity Barnum, Worried P.T. Barnum, all of them - Freeform, hair petting, this is entirely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 23:27:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22126243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messedupstargazer/pseuds/messedupstargazer
Summary: Something wasoffwith Phillip.  He had first noticed it a few days ago, when Phillip came over his weekly dinner with their family, but something was clearly off now.  Phillip was always a bundle of rambunctious energy, always moving, always helping the troupe, whether it was with rehearsal or with the tent or with anything his circus family needed.   But now, Phillip had slowed down.  He was forcing a happiness Phineas didn’t understand, and refused to answer the question they had all been asking him lately.“Are you alright?”A laugh and a redirection, often at the expense of the asker, perhaps even a roll of the eyes, little parts of him they had come to expect as his nature flowing freely, without pause.  That had been what assuaged them, all of them it seemed, Anne, Lettie, Charity, himself.  Phillip was still himself so it must mean that Phillip was okay, even if he hadn’t answered the question.
Relationships: Charity Barnum & Phillip Carlyle, Charity Barnum/P. T. Barnum, P. T. Barnum & Phillip Carlyle
Comments: 9
Kudos: 179





	Take Your Walls and Start 'Em Breaking

Something was _off_ with Phillip. He had first noticed it a few days ago, when Phillip came over his weekly dinner with their family, but something was clearly off now. Phillip was always a bundle of rambunctious energy, always moving, always helping the troupe, whether it was with rehearsal or with the tent or with anything his circus family needed. But now, Phillip had slowed down. He was forcing a happiness Phineas didn’t understand, and refused to answer the question they had all been asking him lately.

_“Are you alright?”_

A laugh and a redirection, often at the expense of the asker, perhaps even a roll of the eyes, little parts of him they had come to expect as his nature flowing freely, without pause. That had been what assuaged them, all of them it seemed, Anne, Lettie, Charity, himself. Phillip was still himself so it must mean that Phillip was okay, even if he hadn’t answered the question.

Phineas nearly scoffed aloud at himself. He had allowed Phillip to fool him, to allow the man he very nearly called his son con him into thinking nothing was wrong. But today, there could no denying it.

It was a Wednesday, but since it was during his daughter’s holiday break, he and Charity had decided to go to the circus. The girls had been invited to spend the night with a friend from school, one who didn’t say terrible things about their father’s circus, their family, or, it seemed, even cared that the Barnum’s were new money and didn’t quite fit in with those with old money. He had been so relieved when Caroline had come home with this new friend, and his heart had leapt for joy when this new friend also enjoyed Helen’s company. So he bid his daughter’s a fond farewell, shaking hands with the man who would be entertaining his daughters for the next night. The genuine smile and gentle grip had eased any worries of leaving his daughters. So he and Charity headed to the circus, his heart thumping in excitement. While Wednesday there were no shows, he was still excited to see the new routines being rehearsed, the new acts he and Phillip had secured, and how his family was coming along. No matter how much he loved his girls’, he still felt he was coming home every single time he saw the big top.

Charity had seen Lettie and Anne easily chatting, and Phineas had offered to take his wife’s things to the office so she could join the ladies. Charity had sent him on his way with her coat, a cold winter raged outside but inside the tent was always warn, and a kiss to the cheek. He had headed up the stairs to his office, though in actuality it mostly belonged to Phillip now. Phineas did not spend the time he once did here, building the show, hearing his family underneath him, dancing along with the beat of their hearts, that was all Phillip.

He grabbed at the doorknob, ready to burst in and steal Phillip away from the paperwork he was no doubt doing, but he nearly ran into the door as he found it locked. Now _that_ was strange. Phillip never locked the door. Not unless everyone else had headed home for the day, and he was no longer needed, and even then, Phineas had come in more than once to find the office unlocked. Phillip never wanted to appear like he didn’t welcome any intrusion, any reason they needed to see him, even if he wasn’t in the mood. One night, after a particularly grueling rehearsal when he was first training Phillip to be his replacement (though, at the time, Phillip hadn’t known that), Phillip’s sleep-addled lips had admitted that his father had always locked his door, making it so Phillip was unable to reach him at night, for any reason. That night, Phineas had dragged Phillip to his home, and made sure to let Phillip know his door was never locked, especially for him.

He knocked on the door. “Phillip? It’s me.”

No answer.

So, figuring that Phillip must not be inside, and that was why the door was locked, he fished his key out of his pocket, and unlocked the door. He hung his and Charity’s coats up when the sound of movement caught his ear. He turned and found Phillip slumped over in the office chair, bent in half behind the desk, which seemed why Phineas hadn’t seen him, with his head in his hands.

“Phillip?”

The younger man jumped at Phineas’ voice, and Phineas had to keep from scoffing aloud. Phillip should’ve heard the door opening, should have heard Phineas’ call to the man. Something was clearly wrong.

“PT! I wasn’t expecting you today.” Phillip’s voice was coarse around the edges, clearly the man trying to smooth them out.

“Well, the girls are with a friend, the one I told you about.” Phineas said, his eyes raking over the young man. “So we thought we’d come see you all. Phillip, you- Phillip, what’s wrong?”

Phillip looked terrible. Eyes too red, whether from crying or exhaustion he wasn’t sure, his skin flushed and beaded with sweat yet alarmingly pale at the same time, his nose red as his lips, bags as deep as bruises under his eyes, and a trembling that seemed to take over his whole body.

“Nothing’s wrong, PT.” Phillip had regained some control over his croaking voice and smothered a cough, but Phineas could easily see through the façade. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“You never lock the door, Phillip.” Phineas said, his voice taking on another layer of concern. “And you look like you’re about to drop where you stand. Why aren’t you at home, resting?”

“I’m fine, PT.” Phillip rolled his eyes, and Phineas realized just how deep Phillip’s deception was. It had been a damn near perfect recreation of when he’d asked the young man a few days ago, when he’d first noticed he hadn’t been as energetic with the girls as he usually was. He’d just chalked it up to exhaustion, as being the ringmaster was quite the daunting job.

“No, you’re not.” Phineas sighed. “You’re clearly ill.”

“I am _not_ ill.” Phillip snapped, too harshly not to send him even further into worry. “I simply wanted to be alone for a moment.”

“You have not wanted to be alone since I met you.” Phineas said. “You bring your paperwork to the rehearsal floor so you can still be close to everyone, you sit by me when you’ve already finished so we can talk, and you never lock the door unless there’s something valuable stored in there. So let me ask again, what’s wrong?”

He saw a flicker of hesitance flash through Phillip’s eyes, as if he was considering dropping the act and telling Phineas everything.

But he must have decided against it. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Phineas frowned. “So there _is_ something wrong?”

“I didn’t say that.” Phillip said, too quickly, too defensively.

“Phillip, please.” Phineas said, gently placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You know you can always talk to me.”

Phillip gave him a smile, one just as genuine as the others that had come before it, but Phineas could see the cracks behind the forced façade. “I know I can. There’s just nothing to say.”

Phineas forced a smile of his own. He knew his boy too well for the kid to convincingly lie to him. Especially when he was lying to Phineas Taylor Barnum.

“Come!” Phineas clapped Phillip on the back, and then regretted it as he saw the kid wince. “Let’s go join the ladies’ downstairs. I’m sure they’re talking up a storm.”

Phillip chuckled good-naturedly, and, at Phineas’ gentle wave, headed out the door. He had left the office, with a true smile this time, so while he hadn’t quite won the first battle, he hadn’t lost either.

* * *

“Does Phillip seem all right to you?” Charity asked him a few hours later, when it was just him, his wife, Phillip, and Anne. It had been a while since the last of the circus performers left, citing needing to rest or to rehearse privately.

Phillip was sluggish and still, letting Anne take most of their part of the conversation. While he knew Phillip sometimes liked to enjoy the voice of the girl he courted, this seemed like more than even exhaustion itself. Phillip was staying awake by sheer willpower now.

“No.” He whispered back to his wife. “But he won’t let me in.”

“Ah.” Charity nodded.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice was barely audible in her ear. “He’s clearly sick, but he won’t let me help him.”

“Phillip, dear, would you like to join us for dinner?” Charity’s sudden question surprised them both.

Phillip shook himself awake with a fake smile. “Pardon?”

“Would you like to join us for diner?” Charity repeated easily.

“But we already had our weekly meeting.” Phillip trailed off, his eyes racing back and forth. “Did I… did I miss something?”

“Of course not, dear.” Charity said, in her soothing mom voice. “We just thought that you might like to join us tonight. The house will be empty for a week, and we could use the company.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” Phillip shifted uneasily, trying and failing to hide another cough into his shoulder. “I'm sure you want some time to yourselves.”

“Oh we’ll have plenty but tonight the house will be so lonely.” Charity said. “You know, we’re not used to not having the girls with us. Having someone over for dinner seems like a good way to ease us into it. Come to dinner. For our sake.”

Sometimes he wondered if the reviewers and public got it wrong about him. That it was only _he_ was the con man and master manipulator. His wife was a master of spinning a problem to seem like a blessing. He could tell Phillip had been swayed before he even knew he had opened himself up to it.

“If you say so.” Phillip murmured quietly, a lethargy Phineas could barely bear hidden in his voice.

“Anne, dear, would you like to join us?” Charity asked, though he knew her well enough to hear that she already knew the answer.

“Thank you but no, my brother and I already have plans. Perhaps another time.” Anne replied easily, and she shared a meaningful look with Charity. Ah, this had been in place before he even came to the picture. He knew Anne would know Phillip was ill, but he doubted the young man would listen to her either. They all knew just how far Phillip pushed himself, as if trying to make up for the fact that it was him, that he hadn’t suffered as they had. So it seemed, the women had taken matters into their own hands.

“Speaking of which, you should probably head over to him.” Charity said, standing with authority. “We must take the train now if we’re going to get Phillip back in time.”  
Phineas saw the wink Charity threw to Anne. Phillip didn’t.

“Of course.” Phineas said, standing beside his wife. “I’ll get the coats. We must bundle up, it’s a cold winter out there.”

Phillip finally got to his feet. “Are you sure? I can just walk home. My apartment isn’t far.”

“Phillip, we wouldn’t have invited you if we weren’t sure.” Phineas reached out to take Phillip’s shoulder, gently this time.

Phillip nodded, giving in. “All right. I’ll get my coat.”

“Nonsense, I'm heading up there anyway.” Phineas said, already bouncing on his feet towards the office. He didn’t want Phillip extending himself on something as simple as stairs.

He grabbed the hats and coats, and hurried downstairs. As he approached the group once more, Phillip looked about ready to topple over.

“Ready to go?”

* * *

Phillip fell asleep as soon as they got on the train. Almost immediately, the rumbling of the train soothed Phillip into giving into his fatigue. Phineas was thankful. Phillip clearly needed the rest he had previously denied himself, and it gave Phineas and Charity a little while to talk to themselves.

“Poor thing.” Charity murmured, as soon as she was sure Phillip was asleep. “He’s been working so hard, and with such a cold winter, it’s no wonder he got ill.”

“So I suppose it’s already been decided that he's going to be staying the night.” Phineas murmured, trying to keep his voice low as to not wake Phillip.

“Oh yes.” Charity said. “Both Lettie and Anne said they tried to get him to go home and rest but he simple denied he was ill and continued to work. Both offered their places, but he turned them down and locked himself in the office. I then offered to take him for the night, poor thing shouldn’t be alone.”

“Don’t mind being alone.” Phillip sleepily muttered. “Gives me time to think.”

“We got a while to go, Phillip.” Phineas whispered, slipping into his dad voice, the one he used when his own girls were fighting the fatigue of the day. “Go back to sleep.”

Phillip muttered something that was clearly meant to be a witty retort but fell asleep halfway through it.

Phineas suppressed the urge to ruffle the young man’s hair, but that would wake him, Phillip woke at the slightest touch, so he forced it down. Instead, he removed his outermost jacket, and folded it. He then slowly reached over to Phillip and gently placed it on the young man’s shoulder. Phillip’s eyes fluttered behind his lids, but he didn’t wake, snuggling into the makeshift pillow. Phineas let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Well, hopefully, we can get some dinner in him and get him to sleep it off.” Phineas said. “I have no doubt he’ll be racing around in the morning, trying to tell us off for letting him sleep too long while still denying he was feeling unwell at all.”

The rest of the ride was in silence, except with a small snore coming from Phillip. Phineas thought it slightly odd, as far as he could remember Phillip never snored, but often whenever they had to bunk together, they were both so exhausted that they both never stayed conscious for more than a moment once they lay down.

When the train reached the station, he gently touched Phillip’s shoulder. Phillip instantly came awake, and Phineas caught the coat as it fell from Phillip’s shoulders.

“We’re here.” He said simply, gathering his and Phillip’s things.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-”

“Hush, there’s no need.” Charity said, grabbed the boy’s still gloved hands, helping him to his feet. “Everyone falls asleep on trains.”

Phillip blushed as they stepped off the train.

“Besides, it gave me a chance for that alone time with my wife you spoke of.” Phineas teased, winking at Phillip.

Phillip rolled his eyes, fondly exasperated, and Charity gave him a solid whack with her bag.

* * *

“The Christmas week shows are to be something special.” Phillip was saying as they walked up to the Barnum home. The carriage ride had been spent in companionable silence, with Phillip trying to keep himself awake once more. It seemed though, the walk in the fresh air was doing him good.

“Ah, yes, that new routine Anne mentioned.” Phineas said slyly. He had known that Phillip had been working nonstop on a new routine to bring in the crowds for the holidays. They would not dare to put on a show on Christmas, the holiest of days, but the surrounding week many businesses were not open, so they had much to compete with for people’s attention. “She said you had something special that you refused to tell anyone else about. I'm your partner, I should know what it is.”

Phillip rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

“And yet, you're going to show me anyway.” Phineas said, wrapping an arm around Charity as the wind blew cold air on the little family.

“And how do you know that, old man?” Phillip said, bundling his coat even closer to his chest.

“Because I'm PT Barnum.” He winked at the young man.

“Get used to disappoint-” Phillip suddenly broke off to cough, and this wasn’t a smaller one he could smother.

“Phillip dear?” Charity’s voice, while right in his ear, was nearly drowned out in the coughing.

Phillip couldn’t seem to catch his breath, stumbling off the to the side.

“Phillip!” Phineas’ voice was harsh, worried.

Phillip turned to him, eyes red and wide. The blue in his eyes was surprised,, almost frightened, as his eyes rolled up into his head and his body went slack, collapsing to the ground.

Both Barnums ran to him, but Phineas got there first, pulling the unconscious boy into his arms. His hand went to Phillip’s forehead and he found a fire hotter than the one that had nearly claimed their lives.

“He’s burning up.” Phineas said, his panicked heart racing against his chest.

“Let’s get him inside. The night air is doing him no good.” Charity said, and Phineas hauled the young man into his arms, letting Charity run ahead so she could set up the room. Much like the night of the fire, he carried Phillip into the house. For a moment, he was thankful the girls were out of the house. Seeing Phillip like this would scare them, of losing their big brother, of how Phillip still hadn’t woken in their father’s arms, reminding them of the night of the fire. He began to notice the young man shivering across his enter body as he crossed the threshold, shivering like his life depended on it, and the memory of the fire was banished from his mind.

Phineas carried Phillip up to the spare bedroom Phillip often used when he had to spend the night at the Barnums. Charity was turning down the bedsheets when he got up the stairs, with a basin full of cool water and a few spare cloths next to it.

“He’s trembling like a newborn lamb.” Phineas murmured to his wife, and their fear-filled eyes met.

But they had dealt with sick children before and Phillip was no different.

Together, as if reading off a cue neither could see, they nodded resolutely and Phineas set Phillip down as gently as he could onto the bed. Charity immediately went to his feet, removing his shoes and Phineas his coat. As soon as Phineas finished unbuttoning one, he found another underneath. When he finally reached Phillip’s shirt, he found it soaked through with sweat.

Without a word, but still needing to have the conversation with Charity, he looked at his wife. He knew Phillip would never show them what lay underneath willingly. Even in the melting months of summer, Phillip always kept a shirt on, even when plenty of others went without one, never even rolling up his sleeves. He would sometimes come to work in a black shirt with no undershirt but never once has Phineas ever seen Phillip voluntarily without one. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Phillip without one _at all_.

“He needs to be out of those wet clothes.” Charity said what they were both thinking. “I’ll send for a doctor. I shouldn’t be too long.”

Giving herself an out, so it was only Phineas who saw Phillip so undressed, he nodded. Charity gave Phillip a gentle kiss to the forehead, and he saw her wince at the heat pouring off of their boy, and she gave him a light but reassuring peck on the lips. Sometimes he marveled at himself, and how he'd managed to keep Charity in his life so long. She always knew what to do, especially when his own mind was spinning out of control.

So he focused and did what she needed him to do. Charity left so he could help Phillip, and he knew she'd be racing back home, not wanting to be away from any of her children for too long while they were sick. He started to unbutton his shirt. Once he got Phillip out of the button up, he found a white undershirt nearly stuck to Phillip’s chest. Even sick as he was, Phillip still knew to cover his chest and that brought on a moment of hesitation. Phillip would not want him to see this, but he knew staying in sweat-soaked clothes could make him worse. So Phineas steeled himself and got Phillip out of the undershirt and _gasped_.

Phillip’s chest was littered with scars from the fire. Scars from wounds that he had caused leaving the circus with only Phillip to defend it. The scar on Phillip’s forehead often went unnoticed, as it had faded well, but these had _not_. These were still red, still angry, even after so much time had passed. No wonder he never took off his shirt. Knowing Phillip’s upbringing, these scars over his previously unblemished body would be a source of shame for him. A sign of failure, a sign that he had not been born among the swells he once refused to leave. Even though he'd left his parents’ world behind, some lessons could be untaught, not without a help Phillip hadn’t asked for, probably would never ask for.

He forced down his revulsion at Phillip’s pain, he didn’t care how the scars looked, he only cared if they caused Phillip pain. And right now, Phillip was in pain, he was burning again, but this time, Phineas could help. He maneuvered Phillip out of his trousers, grabbing one of his old pairs, hoping they might fit, and carefully replaced them. These were from his old life, when he worked on the railroad and his clothes couldn’t be too heavy or he would collapse and get docked pay. He left Phillip’s chest bare though, needing to cool the young man off. As much as he wanted to respect Phillip’s privacy, his health took priority. Now he was truly thankful the girls weren’t here. Phillip never spoke of the fire to any of them, whether he was trying to forget or trying to protect his circus family he wasn’t sure.

Phineas got the basin Charity had brought, dipped a rag in, and folded it, placing it on Phillip’s forehead. The man he called son in his heart moaned, his eyes fluttering open.

“Phin?” Phillip’s voice was small and hoarse.

Phineas grasped his hand tightly. “I’m here, Phillip.”

“You're gonna have to do the show tonight.” Phillip murmured, and Phineas frowned.

“The show?”

“Don’t think I can make it up on stage.” Phillip slurred, breaking into a cough fit. Phineas helped the young man turn to his side so he could cough up whatever it was in his lungs.

“Phillip, it’s Wednesday.” Phineas tried, squeezing the young man’s hand when he calmed down. “There’s no show today.”

“Don’t cancel it.” Phillip groaned, trying to push himself up. “I can do it. We need the money.”

“No, no, shh, Phillip.” Phineas pushed him back down as gently as he could, Phillip’s weak arms unable to fight him off. Phillip swatted at him with shaky hands, but Phineas just readjusted the cool cloth of his forehead. Phillip whimpered at the coolness.

“There’s no show. There’s a big storm coming in.” Phineas lied. “It’s not safe to perform.”

“Storm… it’s so cold.” Phillip whined, his eyes glassy with fever,

“That’s just your fever talking.” Phineas said, wringing out another cloth.

He then placed that one underneath Phillip’s neck. Phillip mewled softly.

“Shh, it’s all right, Phillip.” Phineas soothed, running a hand through Phillip’s hair. “A doctor will be here soon. Then you'll feel better.”

“No, no doctor.” Phillip slurred. “Too expensive.”

“Oh you silly boy.” Phineas whispered, pressing a kiss to Phillip’s forehead, wincing at the fire raging under his skin. “Is that why you hid this? Because you didn’t want to cost the circus money? Oh, Phillip.”

Phillip mumbled something unintelligible in response.

The door opened below him, and he heard two voices enter his house.

“Thank you so much for coming, on such short notice.” Charity was saying. She must've found a doctor.

“Of course. You and your daughters have been nothing but good neighbors.” A voice he barely recognized followed her up the stairs

A man, about sixty if Phineas pegged him right, with white hair and a gentle smile in well taken care of clothes with a top hat entered the room. Phineas vaguely recognized him as the man who lived down the street from them.

“I wasn’t aware you had a son.” The man said, looking surprised that it was Phillip on the bed.

“He's… adopted.” Phineas excused lamely.

The man nodded, as if Phineas hadn’t just clearly lied to him. “Well, what are his symptoms?”

“High fever, a nasty cough, and he collapsed a little while ago.” Phineas said. “He's doesn’t quite recognize what I'm saying, and he still hasn’t stopped shaking.”

“How long was he unconscious for?” The doctor asked.

“At least a few minutes, Doctor Howlett.” Charity said, giving her husband the name he hadn’t known. “We've been so worried, he seemed a bit run down when we saw him this past Monday, but we didn’t think it was this bad.”

“The winter probably helped the illness along, if he couldn’t keep out the cold.” Doctor Howlett said, placing his stethoscope in his ears and on Phillip’s chest. Phillip whimpered at the cool metal, his hands jerking without direction. “Oh my. Where did he gets these scars?”

“The fire that claimed the circus building.” Phineas said. “He rushed in to save another performer, not knowing she was already out. I had to go in after him, he was unconscious under a beam when I found him.”

Charity put a steadying hand on his shoulder. He would never forget that night, it would haunt him for the rest of his life. Finding Phillip had been the easy task, he’d been crushed only a few feet in, getting him out had been the trial of their lives. Smoke flooding his lungs as he tried to lift the beam off of Phillip’s unconscious body, throwing himself over Phillip as wood and glass came screeching down on them, thinking only of saving his son’s life, of getting back to his children, all of his children to keep him going, and finally getting Phillip into his arms. With Phillip so slack, bloody, and burnt, he thought he was carrying a dead man.

“How much smoke did he take in?” Doctor Howlett asked.

“A lot.” Phineas admitted. “Phillip was barely breathing when I got him out.”

“Phillip, was it?” At his and Charity’s nod, he continued, “Phillip, can you cough for me?”

Phillip blinked up at the doctor, seemingly completely incoherent.

With his other hand, the doctor gently jostled Phillip, sending him into another coughing fit. Phineas grabbed hold of Charity’s hand. Once Phillip had calmed down, the doctor then put away the stethoscope, and slipped a thermometer under Phillip’s tongue. They waited for a moment, before the doctor checked it.

“Well, the good news is it’s not pneumonia, there’s no crackling in his lungs.” Doctor Howlett said, and both parents sighed in relief. “He seems to have caught a case of influenza, but his lungs sound… weaker than a man of his age normally would. So I would definitely keep an eye on that. If he starts coughing up black phlegm, come get me _immediately_. I'm spending the Christmas holiday at home, my relatives are coming to see me this year, so I’ll be home all holiday season. Do what you can to cool him down, perhaps a cool bath would help if his fever gets much higher. Not an ice bath, but lukewarm or chilly at best. Otherwise, he just needs rest and lots of it. Feel free to give him cough syrup if you have any, but not too much. There’s not much left to do but let this run it’s course. Make sure he gets some water in him and see if he's strong enough to eat. Something simple on the stomach, bread or some soup.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor Howlett.” Phineas said, his shoulders slumping in relief. Influenza was no picnic, but he had weathered it with both girls, and he was sure Phillip, a man stronger than the two children combined, would be strong enough to survive. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”

“Found another doctor, I suppose.” The man said jovially. “Keep me updated on his progress. I've got to return home, but if he gets worse, come get me immediately. If he coughs up black phlegm, or if you find you cannot wake him, do not hesitate to come and fetch me. I’m just down the street.”

Phineas shook the man’s hand stoutly, as did Charity. Phineas then led the good doctor out.

“Will he be alright?” Phineas asked, just as the man was leaving. He couldn’t keep the question inside him. “His lungs, you said they were weak, and his fever-”

“Don’t fret so, Mister Barnum.” The doctor assuaged. “Phillip seems to be a strong, young lad, with parents who adore him. I have faith that he’ll pull through. You should too.”

Phineas nodded as the man left, without correcting the man. While everyone in the circus joked around that Phillip was the Barnum’s son in everything but name, it felt strange to have a perfect stranger say it as well. Phineas had considered the man family almost as soon as he'd met him, once he convinced him to run away to join the circus. Charity and the girls hadn’t been far behind, especially since Phillip always had a piece of candy in his pocket ready for the girls. Phillip treated them like family, and now it seemed, he needed his family to stand behind him.

He headed back upstairs. Charity was running her hands through Phillip’s hair, humming a song he knew all too well.

“We need to get him some clean drinking water.” Charity said, not breaking her stride. “Can you fetch some?”

Phineas nodded, kissed the side of his wife’s head, and headed downstairs. He fetched a pitcher full of water, a glass and grabbed some bread from the pantry. He headed upstairs, dropping off the items, before returning to the kitchen for another chair so he could sit by Phillip’s side by his wife. As he returned up the stairs, he heard a shatter. He raced into the room to find Phillip in his wife’s arms, with her gently caressing his face, rocking back and forth, murmuring comforts, and a shattered glass where Charity’s feet had once been.

“M sorry, didn’t mean to, sorry-” Phillip was mumbling.

“It’s just glass, Phillip.” Charity gestured to the glass, and Phineas set the chair down so he could pick up the pieces. “Nothing important, nothing expensive. Just a glass. The girls would’ve broken it if you didn’t. It’s not a big deal.”

The glass hadn’t shattered into too small pieces, so Phineas didn’t have trouble with the mess, and he easily threw it away into the small trash can in Phillip’s room. His heart hurt for the child in Charity’s arms.

He returned to the kitchen, and instead of getting another glass, he got the biggest spoon they had. From where Phillip dropped it, it hadn’t been in his hand a moment, and he didn’t want to take another chance, even with them helping him.

When he returned to Phillip’s room, Charity seemed to have calmed him somewhat.

“That’s it, it’s all right, hush, darling.” Charity shifted so Phineas could replace her, and he climbed into bed with his fevered boy, and he held Phillip against his chest, one arm holding onto his shoulder to keep him steady, the other holding his head up.

Charity then ladled some water onto the spoon he'd handed her.

“Phillip, honey?” Charity whispered, gently cupping his cheek, running her thumb up and down his cheek. “Water?”

Phillip opened his mouth enough for Charity to slip the spoon between his lips. It took a moment, but he did swallow the water. Phineas pressed a kiss to Phillip’s forehead.

“That’s it, darling, come on, you can do it again.” Charity encouraged, and they both worked their parts getting some water into Phillip until it seemed he had fallen asleep in Phineas’ arms.

Phineas gently tucked Phillip back into the bed, drawing up a light sheet to try and ease his shivering. 

“Reminds me of when the girls were younger.” Charity laughed, though there was little mirth to it. “Remember when Helen wouldn’t eat anything unless Daddy did the “choo choo”?”

Phineas smiled at the memory. “I remember. What did you say to Doctor Howlett?”

“That one of our children was sick.” Charity admitted with a slight blush. “He practically _is_ our son at this point, I thought it fair to refer to him as much.”

“I quite agree.” Phineas kissed his wife’s hair. “Now all we need is to get the Carlyle’s’ to sign adoption papers.”

That drew a laugh from his wife but soon after she turned somber.

“He felt bad about costing us money for the glass.” She stated. “With his mind the way it is, I didn’t think he would care so much.”

“He told me that a doctor was too expensive.” Phineas said. “When this is over, I’ll go over our profits. We split everything, fifty-fifty. He must be pouring more of his own money into the circus again.”

“Speaking of, we should send them a telegram.” Charity said. “Let Anne and the others know not to expect him for a few days.”

“Thank goodness the Christmas show isn’t for a week.” Phineas said, nodding. “He tried telling me that _I_ would have to go on for the show tonight. If we actually had a show to do, I think he would fight us to get there.”

“Poor thing. He’s worse than you sometimes.” Charity sighed, ignoring her husband’s scandalized look. “Working so much, so hard, he just runs himself right into the ground.”

Phineas had to close his indignant mouth at that. He did share that particular trait with the lad, but it had never gotten this bad.

“When you're right, you're right.” He simply mumbled into his wife’s hair.

“I'm always right.” She said, and he rolled his eyes affectionately. “Now go send that telegram. It’s my turn to watch over him.”

Phineas hated to leave Phillip’s side, but he didn’t want to worry the others unnecessarily.

“I’ll be as quick as I can.” He kissed Charity, then leaned down and kissed Phillip’s still too-hot forehead. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back to talk you out of it.”

* * *

Charity Barnum knew that leaving Phillip’s side was the last thing Phineas wanted to do in this moment, but she knew it was necessary. Especially with how the girls had spoken to her earlier.

_“I'm worried about Phillip.” Anne had confessed to her and Lettie. “I think something’s wrong with him.”_

_“Me too.” Lettie had agreed with the trapeze girl immediately. “I haven’t seen him like this since Barnum left on that tour. He just looks so tired.”_

_Charity’s heart had hurt when Lettie brought up the tour, though she tried not to let it show. Her husband had returned to her, a changed man, who learned from his mistakes and that was enough for her._

_“He was looking a little run-down on Monday.” Charity had admitted. “But he simply said that he was fine, he just hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep.”_

_“Yeah, he said that to me too.” Lettie had said. “And Constantine.”_

_“And W.D.” Anne had added. “Then he told me he was putting in a lot of hours for this Christmas special. He told Charles the same thing. Like he can't quite get his story straight.”_

_Charity had pursed her lips. That was concerning. Phillip, due to his upbringing, always presented a clear and present image of himself. She knew the signs from her own childhood._

_“I’ll invite him to dinner tonight.” Charity had said with conviction. “With the girls out of the house, I can say we’ll be lonely at dinner tonight, so he won’t say no. I'm sure after that we can convince him to stay the night. We’ll have dinner run late, so he misses the last train or something of the sort.”_

_Anne and Lettie had both looked relieved at Charity’s suggestion._

_“Would you like to join us, Anne?” Charity had offered._

_“I don’t think that'd be wise, if we want Phillip to rest.” Anne had sighed. “I worry that he wouldn’t let dinner run late if I were there, lately he's been insisting on walking me home. Says I deserve a proper courting, whatever that means.”_

_Charity had wanted to coo at that statement. This, this was her realm, where she was the master of the ring. She had been waiting for this moment for when Caroline and Helen had suitors, but it seemed fate had other plans for her children, and she couldn’t be happier._

_“What he's doing is…”_

Hopefully, Anne would get the telegram soon, and she would rest easier with Phillip here at their house. She knew she would certainly be in a state of near constant worry if Phineas had been in Phillip’s shoes.

Charity busied herself with work while she waited for Phineas to return. She lit a fire in the fireplace and placed two bed warmers on the fire so they could heat up, she replaced the cold compresses on Phillip’s head and neck, and she gathered his clothes for the laundry.

Just as she returned, she caught the sound of a small whine. She sat beside Phillip once more, and his face was screwed up in pain.

“Hush, Phillip, it’s all right.” Charity tried to soothe him. “Shh, it’s all right.”

“Anne, where’s Anne?” Phillip muttered. “Anne?”

“Anne is safe.” Charity began to run her hands through his hair. “Shh, Anne is perfectly safe. You’re safe, she’s safe, everyone’s safe.”

Phillip seemed to calm a moment. “Momma?”

His voice was so small, so trusting, that it nearly broke her heart.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Charity cupped his cheek, running her thumb up and down his cheek.

“Momma, I don’t feel well.” Phillip’s blue eyes opened, fevered and glassy, and a single tear ran down his cheek.

Whether he knew he was speaking to her or his own mother, Charity didn’t know. But, in this moment, she knew how to comfort her child, whether he had been born to her or not.

“Shh, it’s alright, Momma’s here. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Charity climbed into the bed, bringing him into her arms, just as she had done for her own girls whenever they needed it. She tucked Phillip’s head into her, and he nuzzled into her shoulder. His skin nearly burned her but she refused to acknowledge it. Phillip needed her here.

Once again, her voice filled the air as she started to rock back and forth, rubbing small circles into his back. His arm instinctively wrapped around her, clutching onto her like a drowning man onto a lifeboat. A quick glance down at him showed he wasn’t quite asleep, but didn’t seem all that awake either.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat with Phillip until she could hear her husband return.

Phillip tensed in her arms, his free arm reaching out aimlessly for Phineas. “PT?”

“Charity, can you come here for a moment?” Phineas called out.

“I’ll be right there.” She answered her husband and gently started to release the boy in her arms. Phillip mumbled, his hand around her shoulder clutching onto her with weak fingers.

“Shh, I’ll be right back.” Charity soothed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You won’t even notice we’re gone.”

Phillip muttered something incoherent but his hand let her go, not that he was strong enough to hold her there.

As she descended the staircase, she saw Phineas at the kitchen table with a couple baskets.

“I told them that Phillip would be staying with us for at least a few days.” Phineas said as he was unwrapping the baskets. “I didn’t tell them he collapsed, I thought that might scare them too much. I sent it to Anne, she's sure to tell everyone else when they meet for rehearsal.”

“Will you still have rehearsal without you or Phillip there?” She said as she approached the table. She saw Phineas pull a bottle of cough syrup from one and saw bread in another.

“Oh yeah, they’ll continue on without us.” Phineas nodded. “Lettie knows what she's doing.”

Charity nodded.

“I got some laudanum, and willow bark and meadowsweet for his fever, I wasn’t sure if we had any medicine for him, and some food that was easier on the stomach.” He continued. “The pharmacist said we should feed him before giving him the laudanum so he doesn’t just throw it all up.”

She pulled a couple loaves of bread, some plain crackers, and some applesauce from the second basket.

“Make sure to grab the meadowsweet and willow bark, I know laudanum tastes terrible.” Charity said.

Phineas nodded, and together they headed up the stairs.

Phillip looked to them in awe, and a small relieved smile.

“I told you, you wouldn’t even notice we were gone.” Charity said, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “Do you think you can eat some food for us?”

“Not hungry.” Phillip slurred.

“I know, but you need your strength.” She gently placed the food and medicine on his desk.

“Strength.” Phillip muttered, as if trying to focus on their words through a haze.

“Yeah, come on, son. Need to get some meat on your bones.” Phineas said, not noticing the slip of the tongue but Phillip seemed to. Phillip’s eyes went to Phineas, surprised with perhaps a touch of relief.

Phillip then pulled himself up on shaky arms, leaning heavily on the bedframe.

Phineas’ smile shone bright with relief. “That’s it, son. Why don’t we try the applesauce first? In case your stomach can't quite handle anything else.”

Phillip nodded and Charity picked up the applesauce. She carefully spoon-fed the young man until he whined in protest. Phineas was ready with a bucket she hadn’t seen him bring up, but it seemed Phillip didn’t need it.

“How about you take some medicine and go back to sleep, huh?” Charity sighed, setting the half-finished applesauce down.

Phillip groaned, both in disgust and refusal.

“Do you want to get better?” Charity said, her tone brooking no arguments, and Phillip looked at her, exhausted. “Then you need to take your medicine.”

Phillip sighed in resignation with a whine in his throat.

“There we go.” Charity smiled, knowing she had won. “I know it tastes bad, but we've also got some meadowsweet to help wash down the taste.”

She got a spoonful of laudanum and held it out for him. Phillip eyed it warily.

“Swallow it fast, like a shot.” Phineas said, with a touch of mirth she didn’t quite understand but it drew a small smile from Phillip.

An unstable arm extended to her and she let him lead the spoon to his mouth at his own pace. As Phineas suggested, he swallowed quickly, throwing his head back, grimacing in disgust.

“Well done, sweetheart.” Charity said. “Here, have the meadowsweet.”

Once they'd gotten the meadowsweet into him, Phillip's eyes immediately started to droop, the laudanum kicking in.

“Still gross.” Phillip muttered before dropping into sleep.

Charity couldn’t help the smile. “When did we end up with three children instead of two?”

Phineas snorted.

“It’s entirely your fault, by the way.” Charity teased.

Phineas cocked an eyebrow. “And why is that, my darling wife?”

“You brought him home.” Charity explained. “Out of everyone at the recital, you picked him out of the crowd and brought him into our lives, into our home. You could’ve chosen anyone else, but you chose him.”

“Oh?” Phineas chuckled. “And tell me, would you have chosen differently?”

“I'm glad I didn’t have to choose differently.”

* * *

Phineas and Charity hovered over their surrogate son while he slept. The bed warmers were ready, and together, they got them underneath the mattress to help Phillip through the night. Then they curled up onto their chairs and sat with him.

“Why don’t you get some rest, darling?” Phineas said. “I'll watch over him.”

“I fear I shan’t get much rest with Phillip like this.” Charity sighed. “I'd rest better knowing his fever was broken. I think I would just toss and turn in bed tonight, especially with you not there with me.”

Phineas frowned but completely understood. Nothing could wrench him away from Phillip's side tonight. So they just decided to rest near each other, with Charity sleeping on Phineas' shoulder for a few hours and then Phineas fell asleep in Charity’s lap. Phillip woke up enough the next day to keep down some bread and crackers before another dose of laudanum put him straight to sleep. After the last dose they would give him for the night, Phineas settled into Charity’s lap, just as he had done the night before, but tonight, Phineas couldn’t find sleep. He couldn’t understand why. Phillip's fever hadn’t gotten worse, his cough had lessened with the medicine, and he’d been mostly clear headed when he’d went to sleep. Granted, he was still short of breath, and sweat still poured off of him like a waterfall, but Phillip seemed to be on the mend.

“Darling, why aren't you sleeping?” Charity said.

Phineas sat up. “I'm not quite sure. I just can't seem to stop thinking, I suppose.”

A low moan drew their attention, the first sound from Phillip in hours. Laudanum was a strong sedative, so he had expected Phillip to sleep through the night undisturbed. The moan was followed by harsh coughing, and Phillip's very breath seemed to catch in his throat. Phineas immediately surged forward, turning Phillip to the side, and gave him a good whack on the back. Grey phlegm expelled from his lungs.

A vice gripped his chest and he could barely breathe. Phineas put a hand on Phillip's forehead and found his fever had spiked. His skin was red and flushed, with beads of sweat running down the young man’s chest, and his breath was coming in short, choked gasps.

“Charity, he’s- he's burning, he's on fire.”

“I'll run the bath.” Charity said, and raced into the next room.

Phillip coughed harder, though nothing came up this time, and then his eyelids fluttered open. “Phin?”

“Yes, it me.” Phineas said. “I'm right here.”

“Phin, where’s mo…” Phillip trailed off, his eyes glossed over.

“Charity’s just running you a bath.” Phineas supplied, hoping he was giving the right answer.

“So cold.” Phillip murmured, shivering like he'd just crawled out of a frozen river as if to make his point. 

“You have a fever, son.” Phineas said, blinking away tears. “You're too hot. We need to cool you down.”

“No hot.” Phillip groaned. “Cold, too cold. Phin, it’s so cold.”

Phineas' heart broke at Phillip's broken voice, lost in the throes of fever.

“The bath is ready for him.” Charity said, gathering her skirt up. “I'll run over to Doctor Howlett’s; you get him in the bath.”

He nodded at his wife and watched as she tore out of the house faster than if she'd been fired out of a gun. He pressed a kiss to Phillip's forehead, murmured a small prayer for forgiveness, rolled his sleeves up, then began to get Phillip out of the bedclothes he was in. He left the undergarments on as the last testament to Phillip's modesty. He had no idea when Charity and the doctor would be back, and Phillip would be horrible embarrassed if anyone saw him with no undergarments.

So once he’d gotten out of his trousers and socks, he scooped Phillip up in his arms and carried him into the guest bath. He gently lowered Phillip into the tub, doing his best to ignore Phillip's cries at the temperature, submerging him until only his head remained. The water wasn’t too cold, but to Phillip it seemed like ice.

“No, no, please, make it stop, please, stop, stop, please!”

“It’s alright, Phillip, son, it’s alright.” Phineas murmured into Phillip's hair, gently taking some water and splashing it across his face and neck. “You're going to be alright.”

“Anne. Where’s Anne?” Phillip turned, looking around with frenzied fevered eyes.

“Anne’s safe, she's not here.” Phineas stuttered.

“I can't find her, I need to find her.” Phillip tried to pull away from Phineas' grip, leaning forward, out of the water. Phineas had to use his strength to pull him back under the water. “Where is she?”

“She’s safe at home, Phillip.” Phineas tried.

“No, no, I need to find her, I need to find her. She’s in danger.”

“Danger?” Phineas asked. “Phillip, why is Anne in danger?”

Phillip's eyes shone just as they did the night of the fire, with a fierce desperation and a grave fright.

_“Because the circus is on fire!”_

“Phillip that was… that was months ago.” Phineas said, the man famous for his words, false as they may be, now unable to form the ones to calm his protégé’s mind. “Everyone’s safe, we’re all out, Anne’s safe.”

“No, not safe.” Phillip muttered, the inferno that nearly claimed them both unfolding before his very eyes. “It’s burning, our home is burning.”

“The fire’s out, Phillip. Everyone made it out all right, everyone is safe.”

“Phin?” Phillip’s voice changed, going from frightened desperation to heart-wrenchingly lost.

“I'm here, Phillip, I'm right here, son.” He whispered.

“You're back?” Phillip muttered, confused.

“I'm right here.” Phineas repeated.

“No. No, you can't be back.” Phillip turned away from him, and Phineas saw the tears now running down Phillip's face. “You left us, left me.”

“I never should’ve left, Phillip.” Phineas fought the guilt building behind his own eyes. “I'm here now, I'm right here, I'm not leaving you.”

“It’s my fault.” Phillip said, still unable to look at Phineas. “My fault our home burned.”

“Phillip, you can't control the actions of others.” Phineas replied. “You couldn’t have known they would start that fire.”

“You left me in charge. And I let our home burn.” Phillip's eyes were too glassy, and Phillip wouldn’t respond to any of Phineas' soothing sounds or calming words. “I tried to do it, Phin. I tried to be the ringmaster you were. But I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t strong enough to keep them from coming in, I wasn’t strong enough to fight them off. W.D. tried to tell me, tried to teach me to fight. I said no, said not everything had to be solved with violence. They beat me in seconds, Phin. I didn’t stand a chance against them. Lettie had to come in and save me, they had me pinned. They never fought you, they never got inside when you were there to keep them out. I wasn’t good enough to follow in your footsteps and they knew it and they burned us, and they hurt us and it was all my fault-”

Phillip cut himself off with another coughing fit, and Phineas pulled him back close, as grey phlegm dribbled down Phillip's chin, unable to speak.

“I see what you mean, Mrs. Barnum.” Doctor Howlett’s voice surprised him, making him jolt.

Without a word, he and the doctor switched places, so he could examine Phillip.

“Darling, you're crying.” Charity frowned, her own tears brimming in her eyes.

He hadn’t even noticed. He just embraced his wife with everything he had.

“How long was he in the hospital after the fire?” Doctor Howlett asked.

“Only about a week, I'm told.” Phineas said, letting Charity go to turn to the doctor. “Unfortunately, once he was able to, he just sort of let himself out according to his paramour. We had the circus to rebuild, an entirely new set of acts to show, we had to find new housing for the animals… I just assumed he was all right when he kept showing up to work.”

Doctor Howlett nodded. “Ah, yes, the struggle of trying to hold all responsibilities together at once. I've seen more than one person succumb to this, myself included. I can give you some good news though. It’s not smoke poisoning from inhaling the smoke.”

Both he and Charity sighed in relief, still hanging on the doctor’s every word.

“It seems this is that his lungs suffered trauma from inhaling too much but it isn’t poisoning him. The cough is aggravating his weakened lungs, but this isn’t fatal. He needs to be much more careful now with coughs, I'm sure the hospital staff told him such, but it seems it didn’t quite take. His weaker lungs are what's caused this to come on so quickly, and to affect him so much. He pushed himself too hard and his lungs couldn’t quite keep up, and with the fever, his body just couldn’t handle it anymore.”

“We’ll tell him.” Charity said, speaking for her husband when it became clear to her that Phineas couldn’t speak for himself. “We’ll make sure he rests, and we’ll tell his paramour too. She’ll get through to him if we can't.”

Doctor Howlett nodded, placing the thermometer under Phillip's tongue. “For now, just keep up with the medicine, and let him rest. The only way he can heal from this is through sleep. His body needs time to catch up to what he was doing.”

Phineas' body sagged so with relief, Charity very nearly had to catch him.

Doctor Howlett checked the thermometer and nodded to himself.

“The bath helped, his fever’s dropped considerably. He’s not quite out of the woods yet, but his fever’s definitely in a range I prefer over what it was yesterday. Will you need help getting him out?”

“No, no, I can do it.” Phineas said, finding the strength. “He won't like anyone but me seeing him like that, anyway.”

“Boys are often that way with their fathers.” Doctor Howlett muttered, more to himself than anything but Phineas heard him loud and clear even over the beating of his heart. “If his fever spikes once again, or if there’s any other problems, come and fetch me. But from here, you should be alright on your own.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor.” Charity said, clasping his hand with both of hers. “I don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”

Doctor Howlett smiled. “Oh, nonsense. Just keep me updated of his progress.”

They both nodded.

“Oh, do make sure to dry him off before putting him back in bed.” Doctor Howlett said.

“Of course.” Phineas said.

“Don’t fear.” Doctor Howlett said, guessing the mindset of both parents. “Your boy is strong. He’ll be all right. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I must head home. It is past midnight, and my wife is expecting me.”

“I'll see you out, Doctor.” Charity said.

Phineas nodded and let Charity walk the man out. Phineas then grabbed a towel and set it aside. He lifted Phillip's slack weight out of the tub, and set him down on the stool the girls used so they could see the bathroom mirror when more than one person needed to use the restroom in the mornings. Phillip seemed awake, or at least not asleep, so he let Phillip hold himself up instead of leaning him against the wall. With methodical precision, he brushed the towel over Phillip, trying to be gentle while still getting all of the water.

“Phillip? You with me?”

Phillip blinked up at him, the exhaustion clear across his body, but his eyes were much clearer now though in the light, they seemed filled with unshed tears.

“I'm here.”

“If I get you some spare clothes, can you change into them by yourself or will you need help?” Phineas asked.

Phillip thought for a moment. “I think I'll be okay.”

Phineas nodded and draped the towel over Phillip's legs. “Be right back.”

Quickly as he could, he fetched some of his old clothes and brought them back to Phillip, who hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even picked up the towel.

“Phillip?” Phineas made his voice as gentle as he could.

Phillip startled, as if just noticing the man’s return. Phineas set the clothes right next to Phillip.

“I'll just be in the next room. Do you need anything?”

A small shake of the head.

“Okay.” Suddenly feeling very awkward, Phineas headed to Phillip's room. He found Charity there.

“He’s changing, said he'd be okay.” Phineas explained at her questioning look.

“If he said he'd be okay…” Charity trailed off, no doubt her mind going to the same place as his own. “Why were you crying? You never answered me.”

“He thinks the fire was his fault.” Phineas said, unable to stop the tears flowing again. “That he didn’t do enough to protect the circus. He's been suffering all this time, all this time and never told us. Never told _me_. Charity, he… he thinks he's not good enough. That’s why he pushes himself to the brink, I'm sure of it. He tries and tries and tries too hard because he thinks he can't measure up to me.”

“Well then. We’ll just have to convince him that he's wrong.” Charity said, trying to keep her own emotions in check.

A small thud entered Phineas' ears.

He motioned to Charity, and went back to the bathroom. Phillip was clutching onto the sink to help himself stand.

“Why didn’t you just call for me?” Phineas said as he took the young man into his arms, slinging one of Phillip's over Phineas' shoulder.

‘Didn’t need help.” Phillip said, to Phineas' disbelief. He sounded on the verge of tears. “Just needed a moment.”

Phineas dragged Phillip back to bed, but this time, climbing back in with Phillip. Charity got on the other side, trapping Phillip between them.

“Not dying. Don’t need to hover. M fine now.” Phillip muttered from between them, his voice trying to create a careful mask to hide his emotions, but Phineas and Charity had learned to see through it.

Charity started running her hands through Phillip's hair. Instinctively Phillip nuzzled into the space between Phineas' shoulder and underarm, though whether Phillip was trying to rest or avoid the conversation everyone knew was coming Phineas wasn’t sure.

“Phillip, why didn’t you tell us you were still suffering from the fire?”

“I'm not.” Phillip said defensively, far too quickly and startled for them to believe him.

“Phillip.” Phineas admonished carefully.

Phillip choked on his breath, trying to hold in his tears as he buried his face deeper into Phineas.

“Oh, Phillip, sweetheart, it’s alright.” Charity whispered into Phillip's ear, not ceasing her ministrations. “It’s alright, we’re not going anywhere. Just let it out.”

Phillip looked up at them in shock, and there was a sudden stillness before he broke and burst into tears. He shoved his face back into Phineas' shoulder, as if trying to hide his shame at the tears, but his hands clawed at them, each one grabbing one of Phillip's hands. He clung to them with desperate and fragile fingers, as heart-wrenching sobs tore through him. Charity had her arms wrapped around his waist, with his back pressed against her stomach, and Phineas had his arms around Phillip's shoulders, threading his fingers through Phillip's hair, both embracing him with everything they had.

“I can’t take this.” Phillip whispered.

Phineas squeezed the young man harder to cut off any escape attempt. “Take what?”

“This. You. Everything. You've given me so much and I've given you nothing in return.” Phillip murmured. “And I just can't take it anymore.”

“Take what, Phillip?” Charity pressed.

“You! I'm not good enough for you, I'll never be good enough for you. I don’t understand it. You all love me so much and I can't even understand _why_. You gave me everything, even after I've failed you so many times before. You keep trusting me and I keep letting you down and you don’t stop loving me and I just can't take it!”

“No, no you've never let me down, Phillip. You're stronger than I ever was.” Phineas stopped at Phillip's wail for a moment, digging himself more into Phineas' shoulder but soldiered on. “I mean it, Phillip, _you_ kept the circus going when I abandoned it, abandoned _you_. You chose your own path in life, Phillip. In so many ways, I've never been more than just the tailor’s boy. But you, you gave up everything, something I've never done. I've risked it all, but you chose to walk away and face consequences I could never. You're strong, Phillip, and whether you understand it or not, you deserve everything we've given you. Whether or not you understand will not make us love you any less.”

“I'm not even strong enough to stand.” Phillip sobbed.

“That’s not weakness.” Charity said. “Getting sick does not make you weak, seeking help does not make you weak, taking a moment to rest is not weakness.” Would you tell Anne or Lettie to push through illness?”

Phillip sniffled. “No.”

“Or perhaps W.D. or Charles?” Phineas added.

“No.” Phillip said, his confusion clear.

“Then why are you so different?” Charity finished.

“Because it’s _me_!” Phillip wailed. “I'm not like you, you all have suffered so much, in ways I cannot fathom. W.D. told me of his father’s escape from slavery and I was sick to my stomach for hours, Charles told me of the horrible things he endured because of his height, Lettie told me of the people just like me, making fun of her, as I know I must have done, and I can't take it! I cannot survive what you all have gone through so I must be different. I have to push harder, work longer than anyone. I have to make up for it, I have to-”

Phillip dissolved fully into tears.

For a moment, they let him cry, unable to do anything but hold their child in their arms as he sobbed.

“Phillip, do you remember when I gave you the ringmaster’s hat?” Phineas asked.

Phillip nodded, still unable to speak through his tears.

“That hat was my father’s as I'm sure you know.” Phineas continued. “That hat is the only thing I had left of him, the one thing I was able to hold onto after years on the street. It’s a family heirloom, if you will.”

Phillip looked up in confusion, his eyes red and cheeks flushed.

“I wouldn’t have given my father’s top hat to just anyone, Phillip.” Phineas explained, holding eye contact with him. “I wouldn’t have given the circus to just anyone. I didn’t choose Lettie or Anne or W.D. or even my own girls. I chose _you_. I chose you because you deserved it, you already picked up my slack when I left on that damned tour. Phillip, you don’t have to suffer now because you didn’t suffer as much as did. It’s not a competition, it’s not something we’ll hold over your head. So stop holding it over your own.”

“Phillip, we’re your family, no matter what blood says.” Charity said, rubbing small circles into Phillip's back, catching the young man’s eyes. “We don’t want you to suffer at all. The past is the past, and it should be left there, I can certainly attest to that. Your future is what matters to us, and we don’t want suffering to be part of that future. Should Phineas have left me to suffer even though I was raised just as you were?”

Phillip clearly wanted to say no, but realized he was trapped in his own logic.

“I’ll admit, it can be a struggle when someone doesn’t quite understand your suffering.” Phineas said, knowing Charity would understand why he was saying this. “Charity and I have disagreed on more than one thing because of the differences of our upbringings. But does that mean I should leave her for not understanding? Or she should leave me?”

“No.” Phillip's voice was small, quiet.

“You're just as much our child as Caroline or Helen. We love you, no matter what your background. So why should we leave you suffer alone?” Phineas asked, and the look in Phillip's eyes told him he had struck the winning blow.

Phillip's tears were renewed. “’M sorry, ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to, ‘m sorry.”

Charity and Phineas embraced each other, catching Phillip in between them. They surrounded Phillip with as much love as they could muster.

“It’s alright, Phillip.” They soothed. “You're here with us now, that’s what matters. Shh, it’s alright, we’re here, we’re not going anywhere, we love you.”

Phillip's cries eventually tapered to shuddering breaths and a quick look told Phineas he wasn’t long for consciousness. So together, he and Charity managed to get some more meadowsweet and willow bark into Phillip before the young man fell asleep once more. Neither moved from their position, still holding each other, holding Phillip.

Phillip's fever broke that night between them.

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit, I think it's funny how we all collectively decided that Phillip's parents, by nature of being portrayed as racist in the film are physically and/or emotionally abusive assholes who don't give one lick about their son lol
> 
> So, did you like it? Were the tropes too much? Was it your cup of tea? Let me know!!!! I thrive off that external validation thank you


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